Divine [Indra Ōtsutsuki] - PAUSED

Silence

A/N: Lol I am so stupid I've been spelling "Hagoromo" like "Hogoromo" this whole time, now I have to go back and fix them all XD This chapter is a little deep so be ready, tell me how I'm doing with this so far, love you all! :3

The door is ripped straight from its hinges, tumbling into the house by the impact of Indra's chakra strike. He steps forward into the debris and activates his Sharingan. His eyes feel tired due to the constant overuse of his dojutsu. After all, he'd been activating and deactivating his Sharingan all day.

"One," Indra counts, his eyes darting to each dark silhouette as he enters the main room. "Two. Three. Four."

He stops at four, unable to see past the first floor. Three of the raiders were perched on the staircase railing and one of them was only a few feet away from Indra in the living room.

Wait. What is that?

Indra's eyes move towards the odd substance splattered on the stairs. "Blood," he tells himself, tensing. It was smeared all the way up the staircase as if someone was bleeding and was dragged up to the second floor. Indra scans the attackers. None of them had any wounds.

It wasn't their blood.

He quickly shifts himself so that he'd transported behind the first attacker closest to him and breaks his neck swiftly. The raider falls to the floor, the sound of bones cracking echoing throughout the halls. The other attackers watch their fallen comrade with now wide eyes.

"Where's Asura," Indra growls lowly in their direction. His Sharingan eyes narrow. "Where is my litte brother."

Two of the attackers stay still, but the third breaks under the pressure. "I-It wasn't us, I swear! We were just stationed here as guards! I--"

Indra chakra-dashes up the stairs, his fingers encased in crackling electricity, and plunges his hands through the two silent guards' chests. They twitch, coughing up blood, their eyes wide with terror. Indra releases them and they hit the ground softly. The Ōtsutsuki steps back, his hands splattered with blood. He turns his gaze to the remaining raider. It then appeared to Indra that these weren't regular attackers. They were armed with shuriken and kunai, katanas and even food pills to replenish their chakra.

"Chakra," Indra repeats to himself. "They're shinobi."

"Please," the raider stammers. "I can explain."

"Oh, you will," Indra replies lowly, his face shadowed by the pillars supporting the ceiling. "So I suggest you start talking. Guards. Traps. How many are there on this floor?"

"I don't know, I was only told to stay here and watch for any intruders. That's all, I swear!"

Indra studies him carefully. That look of pain on his face, that look of pure terror. He had seen that look so, so many times. He hated it. To die as a shinobi is to lay down your life for a cause that you strongly believe in. This man was no honorable shinobi; he was weak minded and easily distracted from his goal, qualities unfit for a ninja.

Indra draws his katana, pointing it at the man's neck. He knew those eyes, those desperate, lost eyes. Yet they were lined with something Indra couldn't quite put a finger on, but they were glinting with insincerity. He drives his katana down, blood splattering on the blade and staining Indra's white robe.

"You're lying," he says under his breath, his eyes burning. He feels something run down his cheek, and he reaches up to examine it. It was too thick to be a tear, and it left a rusty color on his fingertips.

"Blood," his brain concludes. "The result of the severe overuse of my Sharingan." His eyes feel weaker, his vision ever so slightly blurred, but Indra was determined to find his brother and rid the rogue shinobi from his house.

He creeps down the hallway leading to Asura's room, stopping outside the door. "Tripwire." Indra stares down at the thin wire placed carefully outside Asura's room. He turns his head and looks at the door to his own room. No trip wire. Asura was definitely in here. Indra wasn't sure how many guards were in his brother's room, or if they had already retreated, but he was prepared to face as many as it took to get to Asura.

"I'm coming, Asura," Indra's mind echoes, chakra radiating from his palms. He positions his hands so that they are outstretched to the door. "I'm coming."

The door swings open violently, and Indra steps into the room, dust flying in the air. He hears several people coughing, meaning that there were more shinobi in the room. With his Sharingan he locates three attackers, grabbing one by the arm and slamming him down to the floor, breaking his back. He kicks the second in the stomach and sends his arm crashing down on his upper spine, ultimately breaking his neck. The third is struck by Indra's chakra and sent flying into the wall as the result of his attack. He runs forward, searching for Asura as the dust clears.

"Asura!" Indra calls, wiping the blood from his eyes. His sight was hazy now, the blood stinging at his Sharingan. He deactivates his dojutsu and spots Asura sitting against the backboard of his bed, limply staring down at his feet. Indra runs up to him.

"Asura."

The ends of his white robes were drenched in blood, his sleeves dripping with the red liquid, trails of it trickling from his forehead and lips. Indra reaches out and grabs his head, looking into his blank eyes. He was alive, Indra was sure of it; his sensory skills were strong. He could feel Asura's chakra, however it was quite drained, most likely an attempt at using ninjutsu to defend himself.

"Come on, Asura," Indra repeats, shaking his shoulder. He was in shock. He was bleeding from his side quite severely, however Indra concluded that it was a flesh wound. There were a few more wounds on his arms and a deep gash in his hip that made Indra grit his teeth. He was bruised on his forehead and his palms were stained with fresh blood.

"Asura!" He shakes him harder, worrying more and more by the second. Indra's fingers brush his soft, brown hair aside, trying to soothe him. "I'm right here," he says quietly, his voice dropping. He grabs one of his younger brother's hands and holds it in his. "Please, you have to stay strong for me."

Asura's eyes move, and Indra sighs in relief. He opens his mouth to say something, but winces, coughing up blood that trickles down his chin. Indra closes his eyes tight and wraps his arms around him, he too now covered in blood. "You need immediate medical attention," he explains, feeling Asura's labored breath on his neck. It was so faint, as if he was barely inhaling enough oxygen to even exhale. "I'm going to take you outside. We'll find help."

Indra felt bad that he couldn't heal him. He'd spent all his time building up his ninjutsu skills and not enough time working on the new healing jutsu other's had suggested. Asura makes a pained expression, causing Indra to stop talking. "....No....not safe...outside....." Asura trails off, unable to speak. Indra wipes a tear from his cheek. "I will protect you with my life," he reassures, although he was sure this was something Asura already knew.

"Nii-san.....your....eyes....."

He reaches up with a shaky hand and traces the crevaces under Indra's eyes, then trailing his finger down his cheek, following the lines of blood dripping from Indra's eye sockets like tears. He stops abruptly, making a small sighing sound, and then his head rolls back slowly. He wasn't dead; Indra was positive. He'd passed out from the rapid loss of blood, his eyes partially open.

"Don't worry," Indra whispers, looking into his brother's glazed eyes. He brushes Asura's cheek gently. "I'm here now."

"I'm here."